What Can I Do to Help?
by Acerbus Animus
Summary: When a special, newer member of the team is suspected of commiting the horrendous crimes against the missing children, what are the others going to do?
1. Chapter 1

It had started raining about eleven, coming as a sudden downpour that lacked the usual lightning and thunder that would ease my nerves. Even though most people were afraid of them, the more violent the storm, the better. It might be odd, but I was used to the fact.

"Sissy?"

I didn't move. It wasn't that I could hear the fear in the high voice. I did; the rain was so captivating in the way it fell in great sheets that blanketed the earth. Most people would be disturbed with my idea of "blanketing" and would refer to the storm as "buffeting" the earth instead.

"Sissy!"

I finally got up from my perch on the window seat in my bedroom. My brother's room was just down the hall and I was used to trekking it in the dark. I had the pathway memorized, so I didn't run into the cabinet that held our collaborated collection of random cartoon figurines. Most of his were Spiderman, while mine leaned more to the anime-ish characters of the Japanese comic books.

"What's wrong, Devin?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

Devin was seven-years-old, and deathly afraid of thunderstorms. The only blessing was that he usually slept through them. He'd gone to bed after hearing me complain to him about it starting so late. I usually tried to stay awake for them, and I was glad I did.

This one was bad enough to make him scream for me, obviously.

Devin didn't answer. Instead, he shuffled his little, pale body sideways and held out his arms in the childish "pick me up" fashion. Annoyance rushed through, quickly followed by the urge to leave him alone. I sighed and shuffled toward him.

"Dev, you're seven, you can't expect me to do this all your life," I said as I crawled into bed with him.

He shifted around until I was under the covers, before using me as a pillow. I just absently brushed his hair with my fingers.

"But I don't like thunderstorms," he complained. "They scare me a lot, Sissy."

"I know, but if your friends knew about it, they would think you're just a big baby."

"But I'm not!" he protested, pulling away from me and propping himself up to look me in the eyes.

Again I was reminded that he was the only one that would willingly hold my gaze. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his forehead in a rare show of affection. Instantly I was rewarded with his entire little body relaxing as he was reminded of when our mother would comfort him.

I could feel his eyelashes flutter against my jaw, before I pulled away. Big brown eyes stared at me in exhaustion. I gave him an attempted smile.

He made a noise of contentment, and snuggled closer to me with a little sigh.

I don't know how long we lay there like that. The digital clock on the wall didn't help. The power had gone out once already, and so it was flashing a neon green as a reminder that it needed to be reset. Perhaps I would buy him a nuclear clock so I wouldn't have to worry about it ever again. The more I thought about it, the more appealing the thought became.

"They talked bad about you, again, at school today."

I was slightly surprised that he was still awake. I could've sworn his breathing had evened out; my arm had gone to sleep so I wouldn't have felt him become loose like a doll.

"What did they say?" My voice was low, but not in anger.

"I…I can't remember."

"If you couldn't remember, why bring it up? Don't start lying to me," I warned.

If anything could piss me off, it was being lied to.

He shifted a little, but didn't say anything. I was beginning to wonder if he'd finally fallen asleep, when he surprised me again.

"They said you're a cold, unfeeling bitch who is the one doing all these murders. They also said you're my mom."

I was too surprised at the second part of the first accusation to really register that he'd cussed. He normally didn't, so I guess he might've just been mimicking what was said.

They thought I was killing all the children? If they did, they were even more stupid than I thought. Those hadn't been the words of first grade children either; they were quoting their parents to my brother. None of the parents or children had ever met me, because I refused to attend any parent/teacher meetings. I wasn't his parent, and I was barely his legal guardian. Besides, first graders don't do anything complicated, and I made sure he understood how to do all of the worksheets she sent home with him.

Had his teacher heard the other students say this? If she had, wouldn't he have stopped it? Why did Devin always come home with news about how the other kids were picking on him and our family? She should be stopping these things.

_Unless she agrees with them._

She might have. Making up my mind, I shrugged.

"You and I both know that's not true, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but I don't like it. It's not fair that they pick on you when you're always working so hard."

I didn't really respond right away. Devin had always worried about me. When I left the room, as a baby he'd cry and throw a tantrum until I came back, or someone took him after me. I didn't expect him to worry about how others saw me, though. Those weren't normal thoughts for a boy of seven. He should be worrying if Robin really defeated Slade or not.

"When's your next parent/teacher meeting?" I asked.

"I don't know. I don't really listen to anything about that. Why?"

I sighed. "I'm thinking about going along to the next one. Is that a crime?"

He jerked up into a sitting position. Even in the light of the nightlight, I could see that he looked excited. It confused me.

"Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, really. Now, go to bed."

He nodded and curled back up at my side. I flexed my fingers to wake up my hand. I realized that I was almost falling out of his bed.

_I can't do this anymore_, I thought with a sigh. _This is the last time no matter how much he begs._

Closing my eyes, I sighed wearily and waited for his breathing to slow down. To pass the time, I kept the rhythm of his heart on my arm. It helped me relax, if only for a few minutes.

It wasn't until I realized the rain had stopped that I moved. Gently, to make sure I didn't wake him up, I slid my arm out from under him and stood up.

He sighed and rolled over so he wasn't facing me anymore, before snuggling deep into his blankets and pillows.

A fleeting smile crossed my face, but I quickly left the room and walked down the hall to my own. The sun was beginning to peek through the bottom of my window shades. _Great_. With a groan, I crawled onto my bed, slipped between the sheets, and stared up at the ceiling. The faces on the posters were becoming easier to see.

Reaching over to the small bedside table, I picked up my phone and flipped it open.

_Bloody…it's only 4:00_, I thought. _Maybe no one will need me today._

I turned up the volume as loud as it could go and put it back on the wood top. Rolling over onto my stomach, I ignored the fact I had to make Devin his breakfast and closed my eyes.

He could get Poptarts from the refrigerator if he wanted. The last coherent thought as I fell asleep was that I needed to make an appointment with my doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Without a Trace_, just the first season on DVD.

I was woken up to the sounds of Avenged Sevenfold playing on my ringtone. It took me a while to realize it meant I was needed to work and my immediate response was a pathetic groan.

"Hello?" I growled into the phone, my voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

"Rylee?" came Martin's voice over the phone.

I bit back another groan. He only called if he had an actual case for me. Sometimes I hated my job, but I would be so bored anywhere else.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. "Yeah, it's me. What's up?"

"We've got another case. I need you to come down…"

I spaced out as he launched himself into another annoying monologue meant to catch me up on what's been going on. I had better things to do when I could be filled in later when I actually arrived. With that thought in mind, I got out of bed and headed for my closet to grab something to wear.

"Rylee!" Martin sounded pissed.

I rolled my eyes; he must have just gotten out of the hospital and was annoyed that he was too crippled to really help in the field. Wonderful.

"Rylee!"

"I'm here," I muttered. "What do you want?"

"You weren't listening to me," he complained in annoyance.

"Sure I was," I protested, before adding on so he couldn't question me on what he'd said, "What should I wear?"

He sighed. "Like you really need to be told. You never wear anything else."

"I prefer to be comfortable," I replied. "Bite me."

"I'd rather not."

I shrugged even though he couldn't see me. "Any bodies to play with?"

I could almost picture the disturbed look on his face.

"No, not yet. Just get your butt over to the high school downtown."

"Woah—high school! You have to be joking."

"Just do it." He hung up.

Looking at my phone in surprise, I flipped it shut. Apparently, he missed the sex he had with Sam. How pathetic.

Tossing my phone out the closet door, it landed on the bed and bounced toward the edge. If it broke, I was going to make Martin pay for a new one…with blackmail.

In a better mood, I pulled out the outfit I was going to wear.

Fifteen minutes later, I was in the kitchen trying to decipher my little brother's handwriting. It was a pain he had such horrible penmanship and spelling. At his age, I could spell most of the larger words in the dictionary after seeing them only once. That must be the result of my annoyingly photographic mind, though.

Devin was just a normal kid in second grade.

Eventually, I was able to get that he didn't want to wake me up and had gotten a Poptart and Sunny Delight before catching the bus. I was amazed at how much more responsible he was and groaned a little.

I ignored the grumble of my hungry stomach and grabbed my purse and keys from the counter before heading out the door to the garage. My dark red, _Niisan Sentra_ was sitting there in all its glory. It wasn't amazingly expensive, nor fancy, but it suited my purposes and got me everywhere faithfully.

I opened the door, tossed my purse onto the front seat, and got in.

"Hello, Dante," I greeted the shrunken head made out of a hollowed-out coconut.

As always, his silence was the only response I got. As the engine revved, the CD that I had in blared through the speakers. I turned it down, not in the mood to hear another lecture from Jack about protocol. There was no way I wanted Jack angry, too.

I was able to avoid most of the traffic, since it was already almost noon.

Parking in the lot, I threw the purse under the chair and decided to just click the keys onto the belt loop.

"Jack!"

He turned around and looked at me. He was not happy looking, not that I had very many memories of him _looking_ happy. Something told me that me Martin had called.

Great. Just what I needed; a baby-sitter.

"Martin called. He said you were still asleep when he called and gave him some of that smartass attitude, he said. "Care to explain?"

"My little brother couldn't fall asleep because of the storm," I said; there was only a hint of a warning.

I was incredibly protective of Devin, especially when it came to my job.

"As for being a smartass," I shrugged, "isn't that what I am?"

"Do not mess with me, Rylee," he warned.

"I was trying to get dressed while he was explaining it." I shrugged again. "I figured I could hear it when I got here."

He just sighed. "Get in there. Sam is getting information already."

I nodded and headed inside.


End file.
